Just a Taste
by makeshiftdraco
Summary: Sometimes a taste is enough.


Is it wrong to love someone for hating you so much?

Ron wondered this on a regular basis. All he needed was that look…the one filled with a desire to strangle to loathsome, freckled mass standing before its owner.

Draco was giving him that look right now. "What was that, Weasley?"

Now, Ron knew he had simply asked Draco what the Charms homework was (Why? I have no idea), but instead of repeating his inquiry, he decided to be a dunderhead.

"Will you get naked?" Ron blabbered.

Draco's pink ears were the only things revealing his rage. The rest of his face remained perfectly void of emotion, and yet Ron got the strong impression that the blonde's disgust at this request was both fathomless and horrifying.

"No." The reply was simple but murderous.

Ron blushed. "No, I suppose not." He started to back away, clasping and unclasping his hands awkwardly.

"Will _you_ get naked?" asked the other boy.

Ron froze. "What?"

"I might make it worth your while."

He studied Draco's face. The Slytherin had the same placid look on his face, but Ron detected a sense of wickedness to it now…scheming.

"You're up to something…"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "As are you…"

Ron threw his books over his crotch nervously. "Maybe."  
The other boy shrugged. "Fine." He started to leave.

The prospect of losing his dignity suddenly seemed pale in comparison to the thought of losing a chance with the owner of that fine arse…now striding away from Ron.

"Wait a tick," he said.

The Slytherin turned and waited for him to continue. White, slender arms folded across the green and black of his robes.

"If I do…" said Ron, thinking it out as he spoke. "What will you do for me in return?"

A smirk appeared on Draco's lips. It was the first time the Slytherin had allowed himself to direct anything resembling a smile toward a Weasley (except for a couple centerfolds in Playwitch displaying a certain Charlie "the Dragon" Weasley that the blonde had become rather fond of…not that he would let anyone know that). "I'll be gentle. I promise."

Ron frowned.

"I just might surprise you," said the Slytherin. He leaned against the wall and planted his eyes on the Gryffindor, waiting patiently.

It seemed as if Ron had not choice.

His hands started at the top buttons. They shook as if he were an old man with palsies. All he could think about was Draco's eyes. Those pale grey eyes watching every inch of his body being revealed, and soon enough it was done.

There he was, Ron Weasley, standing there in all his naked glory (or lack thereof).

"Well, I'm naked now," he said. He always did have a knack for saying pretty stupid things. "I have no clothes on. Yep. Naked."

"I can see that," said Draco.

Ron really couldn't take the silent staring.

"Oh goodness, I'm in awe," the blonde said finally. His voice was flat and monotone. "How you got freckles _there_ is beyond me…"

Ron blushed.

"I suppose I owe you some sort of reciprocation." Draco sighed.

The Slytherin stepped toward the other boy decidedly. His every breath seemed calculated.

He walked right up to Ron and pressed his smaller body into the tall redhead. "Is this what you want?"

He ran two fingers down the other boy's jaw line and kissed him hard. Ron gasped and leaned into the embrace, Draco's lips against his, that tongue flicking into his mouth.

"Oh Merlin," he moaned.

Ron took the other boy by the shoulders as Draco bit his lip, then dropped his hands again for fear of deterring any of the blonde's movements. He didn't even notice his eyes had been closed until the other boy shoved their bodies apart.

"Wha-what?" he slurred, still completely uncomprehending.

Draco was smirking at him again.

"A taste of what you'll never have," said the Slytherin.

Oh, why did those soft, silky words have to be so cruel?

Ron's mind was whirling on a metaphorical Tilt-a-Whirl. Any moment now it was ready to get off and hurl on someone's shoes.

"What?"

The Slytherin had regained his suave lack of emotion. "You asked for a taste of something you can't handle…and I gave it to you."

Ron watched the other boy's tongue roll across his lips.

"I let you live an impossible dream, and like all dreams it died. I killed it." A pause. "For your own good you might say."

And just like that the hate was back, staring out from that angelic face. "You're such an idiot, Weasley."

That was why Ron loved Draco for hating him so much…it only made sense. Draco could only hate Ron for loving him. That would have to be enough.

Just a taste…but sometimes a taste is enough.


End file.
